One last ‘Cheers’

In which we sign off on our wine blogging with some final words of wine-related wisdom.

Matthew & I have been working in and around the wine world for the last ten years, and we’ve enjoyed just about every minute of it.

In that time, we’ve met some wonderful people, visited almost every corner of Spain, learned a hell of a lot about what goes into making wine, learned even more about what goes into making a business, and drunk an awful lot of wine along the way. It’s been a privilege, and it’s been enormous fun.

But priorities shift.

Over the last couple of years, I’ve become increasingly focused on the day job. As more work has come in, I’ve found myself dividing my time ever more finely, trying to give proper attention both to my work and to my wine writing. And I’ve reached the point where that balancing act no longer works.

In the meantime, Matthew has moved to south-west France where he’s getting to grips with DIY and limestone mortar and trying not to use too many power tools after a glass of Vin de Cahors.

So, for now, we’ve decided to step away from the blog and focus fully on our own projects.

But while we’re both busy with freelancing and furniture hacking, never fear, you can still buy our wonderful book on Amazon – plug, plug!

Before we sign off, two things.

Firstly, we’d like to thank all the people who have followed us on this journey – our subscribers on this blog, our customers when we ran the online shop, the winemakers who opened their doors to us, the fellow wine sellers, and the fellow wine drinkers. You have all provided support and encouragement along the way, and those who have become friends will be around long after this last blog post is consigned to history.

And secondly, we wanted to leave those of you who are still reading with a few words of wisdom (or wittering, you decide). They sum up what we really think about wine after ten years working with it and nearly forty years drinking it.

So here goes…

Drink what you like

There’s a deliberate double emphasis here.

First, on ‘you’. Drinking wine is personal. It’s about your own tastes, your own preferences, your own circumstances. Don’t drink what other people tell you that you should drink. Don’t worry about price tags, prestige, scores, or whether the bottle will impress someone at the table. Drink the wine that’s right for you.

The second emphasis is on ‘like’. Wine is meant to be enjoyable. If it isn’t giving you pleasure, you’re doing it wrong. Don’t drink wines because they make you look knowledgeable, sophisticated, or socially acceptable. Drink wines that make you happy.

If the red wine you buy down at your local Tesco genuinely gives you pleasure, then drink it. Enjoy it. And to hell with what anybody else thinks.

It’s a drink, not an exam

One of the quickest ways to suck the joy out of wine is to treat it like a test you might fail.

Yes, knowledge is useful. Understanding regions, grapes, vintages, and techniques can help you explore what’s out there and narrow down what you enjoy. It can open doors and spark curiosity.

But wine is not about being the most knowledgeable person in the room.

If someone wants to hold court on the transcendent brilliance of Château Pompous Arse with its subtle notes of damp saddle and existential despair, let them. Smile politely. Then take another perfectly enjoyable swig of something you actually like.

You don’t owe anyone tasting notes.

It’s an agricultural product

Wine is made on farms. By farmers. Usually in villages.

It’s closer to carrots than couture.

If you ever properly visit a vineyard, you’ll need a pair of wellies and a willingness to get your hands dirty. All the snobbery is added later, once the wine is in a bottle and passed into the hands of marketeers.

Where wine is made, it’s drunk by everyone: farm workers, shop owners, clergy, aristocrats, accountants, and all. It cuts across social class, geography, and politics. It’s the ultimate democratic drink.

Sadly, too many people who don’t make wine, and often don’t have the first clue how it is made, have tried to turn it into a luxury trinket, something only the wealthy should enjoy. They’re wrong.

If you ever want to see the reality, get yourself to Logroño in Rioja and do a bar crawl. Watch how the locals treat wine: with respect, yes — but also as something normal, shared, affordable, and for everyone.

That, in the end, is what wine really is.

Spend what you can

I know wine isn’t cheap in some countries, especially the UK. And I know that at the lower end of the price scale, you’re often limited to more industrial, mass-produced wines that don’t always show the wine world at its best.

But if that’s what you can afford, that’s what you can afford.

Make the most of what’s in front of you. Try different wines. Pay attention to what you like and why you like it. Then, if curiosity takes hold, dig a little deeper. Look at the grape, the region, or the style, and try something similar next time.

That’s how familiarity grows. Not through spending more money, but through attention and interest.

It’s not about the price of the bottle. It’s about developing your own personal relationship with this wonderful drink.

It’s what’s outside the glass that counts

We spend so much time focusing on what goes into a wine that we sometimes forget what goes on around it. And that’s where it really comes together.

Wine is something to share. You open a bottle and divide it among the people around the table. It’s a backdrop to conversations, laughter, food, and moments that linger long after the last glass is poured.

It brings people together. It loosens tongues and warms hearts.

And it’s made by people who work hard, care deeply, and — for the most part — share generously.

They say life’s too short to drink bad wine. We say life’s too short to drink wine in bad company.

So stop reading our meandering waffle, switch off your screen, call up some friends, and crack open a bottle. There’s no better place to be.

And for one last time — cheers!